


Love & War

by UntilDawnClimbingClass



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Bullying, Falling In Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-04-28 16:49:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14453592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UntilDawnClimbingClass/pseuds/UntilDawnClimbingClass
Summary: In which Billy is the one who’s grown up in Hawkins and Steve is the new kid from California.If there’s one rule you need to know when going to school at Hawkins High, it’s not to mess with Billy Hargrove.On his very first day of school, Steve unintentionally breaks that rule within five minutes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys. It’s been a long while since I’ve updated or posted any stories due to a serious loss I suffered, but I’m starting to feel like myself again and I’m ready to get back into writing for real this time.
> 
> I’ve already posted a story where Steve was the new kid, for those who have read it or for those who are interested, but that story was Jonathan/Steve. I don’t know why I decided to write another new-kid-Steve story but...it happened. So I hope you all enjoy!

Steve Harrington wandered down the hallway, studying the map in his hands. If he was in the B hallway, he had to go up the east stairwell and make three right turns before he made it to Room F218. Or was he in the C hallway? Then it was up the north stairwell and two lefts and a right.

Damn counselor, giving him his schedule but not waiting around to show him how to get to his first class. Glaring at the map, he sped up . . . and slammed right into someone.

“Shit!” It took him by surprise and he stumbled back, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process. Then he looked and met the furious eyes of the person he had just run into. And Steve could tell that by the mullet the guy had and the leather jacket and tight jeans he wore, he was probably an asshole.

"Sorry, man,” Steve apologized anyway, embarrassed. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

Mullet didn't say anything. He didn't even move. He just stood there, scowling.

So he tried again. "Hey, uh, I'm new here. In case you couldn't tell," he quipped, holding up the map. "Do you think you could point me to the F Hall?"

Mullet finally moved. He took the map, crumbled it in one fist, and threw it on the floor.

"Move."

Steve can’t say he wasn’t expecting something like that, though it still pissed him off a little bit. He threw the asshole an annoyed look before he bent down to pick up the crumpled piece of paper and moved out of the way. Mullet snorted and started to walk past him.

“Hey, thanks man,” Steve said sarcastically, waving the paper a little. “Guess you're not a morning person, huh?”

For the second time in a matter of moments, Steve found himself being slammed into something. This time he was pressed into a locker, an elbow pressed against his throat.

"You say something?" Mullet grunted.

Steve debated on his answer, decided that it wasn’t worth getting into a fight on his first day, and said, “No.”

"That's what I thought. Smartasses don't last long around here."

The pressure at his neck disappeared and Mullet glared one last time before sauntering away.

Steve took a deep, shaky breath and worked the kinks out of his neck. This place was nothing like his old school. He leaned over to pick up his map. Again.

A foot appeared in his line of vision, stomping down on the paper.

_Are you shitting me?_

Steve stood up, ready for a fight this time, but was surprised to see a girl standing in front of him.

"Rule number one about going to school here: stay out of his way.” She nodded to Mullet who had just turned a corner and was out of sight now.

Steve watched him and brushed off his sweater before turning back to the girl. "Who the hell is he?”

"Billy Hargrove. And I would highly suggest you avoid him as much as possible.”

“Why?"

She rolled her eyes with a small smile. "You have a lot to learn. Follow me. I’m Nancy, by the way. Nancy Wheeler.”

Steve smiled at her. She was beautiful, that was for sure. “Nice to meet you, Nancy. I’m Steve Harrington. And thanks.”

Maybe this place wouldn’t be so bad after all.

* * *

 

After a month in Hawkins, Steve was begging his mother to move back to California.

"The weather's so much nicer there, Mom. Remember? Besides, It's already the beginning of October. It’ll be winter soon, and I heard they get a shitload—a _lot_ of snow here." Steve knew he was whining, but he didn’t give much of a shit right now.

"Honey, your father was _transferred_ here for work. _Remember?_ We’re not going back," his mom replied, brushing his thick dark hair back gently to soften the harsh statement. "You're just going to have to get used to living here. It won't be so bad. I promise."

* * *

  
 _What the hell does she know? She’s not in high school anymore_ , Steve thought, leaning up against his locker between classes as he watched his new classmates roam the halls. There went the jocks. He used to be one. Maybe he could still be considered one, but he missed the deadline for basketball tryouts and had to wait now. Back in California, he had been the star, and the most popular guy in school. Here he was just that new kid who everyone thought was a loser. And it was all thanks to Billy Hargrove, who went out of his way to make Steve miserable.

Speak of the devil . . . Steve watched the mullet come towards him. Groaning, he turned around and pretended that the inside of his locker was really interesting. Maybe he wouldn't be noticed.

No such luck.

"If it isn't Mr. Smartass," Billy smirked, stopping right in front of Steve.

Sighing, Steve came out of hiding. "It’s me. Don’t cream your pants," he said, annoyed.

Billy chuckled. “Keep talking, pretty boy."

"Really? You think I'm pretty? That's sweet, but you're not really my type," Steve drawled sarcastically.

A fist was inches away from Steve’s face when Nancy swooped in and grabbed him.

"Hurry up, Steve! We're going to be late for World History," she said, dragging him down the hall.

He glanced back at Billy, who had just made a dent in the lockers. "You're dead, Harrington!" He called after him.

* * *

  
Steve threw Nancy a grateful look as he swung into his seat in the second row. "Thanks. I think you just saved my life."

She rolled her eyes at him. "I told you, on your very first day, not to mess with him. Billy Hargrove is nothing but trouble. But you seem to be determined to break that rule. So don't blame me if you end up in a body bag," she said, examining a chip in her blue nail polish. "Just remember I warned you."

Steve grunted.

Nancy sighed deeply and began to laugh. "But seriously, though. 'You're not really my type'? What on earth could have possessed you to say that? To Billy Hargrove?"

Steve shrugged, smirking. “Everyone back home thought my sarcasm was part of my charm.”

"Yeah, well, I don't think it's going over so well here. And this is your home now."

He smiled at her but shook his head. California would always be home. This was just a nightmare.

The other students filed into the classroom, and the bell rang. Just as their teacher was closing the door, Billy shoved his way in.

"Nice of you to join us, Mr. Hargrove." Billy scoffed and sat down in the back row, two seats behind Steve.

The teacher proceeded to pass back their tests from the day before. "Great Job, Mr. Harrington," he said loudly as he handed Steve his test. "Only been here a month and already you're making the highest grade in the class. This bodes well for your performance on the state exam next month."

Steve felt blood rush to his face and he slouched down in his seat.

Halfway through class, the girl behind him tapped him on the shoulder and handed him a balled up piece of paper. Thinking it must be a note, he winked at her and turned around to open it. She probably thought he was hot. Finally girls were starting to treat him the way he was used to.

But the note was from Billy. **4:00 behind the gym. Come alone. If you don't show, I will find you.**

Steve could have sworn he felt eyes boring into the back of his head. Twisting around, he met Billy’s eyes and gave a slight nod. So his death had not been avoided. Only postponed. Cursing softly, he glanced up at the clock and watched the his time left on this planet tick away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to have this chapter up like 2 days ago but unexpected plans arised, so sorry about that. Thanks for the comments and kudos!

Billy cracked his knuckles as he walked around the side of the building. It was more likely than not that the princess wouldn't show, but he wanted to be ready just in case. He didn't exactly relish the thought of pounding this kid's face in, but it had to be done. Right now the whole school knew better than to mess with him, and he couldn't let this one idiot come in from who knows where and throw the whole system into question. It was easier to prove himself now than later.

As he rounded the last corner, he was more than mildly surprised to see that his victim was already there. Getting closer, he saw that Steve was lying on the ground, clutching his side. He was bleeding.

"Well, if it isn't the pretty-boy," he drawled.

Steve moaned. "I told you before, no matter how much you compliment me, you're just not my type."

"You've got balls, man. You're on the ground bleeding and you're still mouthing off. What the hell happened?"

"What do you care?" Harrington tossed back. "You're here to kick my ass, anyway. Someone else just got a head start."

"Yeah, I figured that out, dumbass. Who?"

"Seriously, why do you give a damn?" Steve crawled, oh so slowly, toward the wall and used it to prop himself up in a sitting position, wincing the whole time.

Billy just glowered at him. He wasn't going to ask again.

Steve met his eyes and sighed, hair falling into his eyes. "Tommy H."

"That guy's a total pussy. I broke his arm last year, he cried like a fuckin’ baby. I didn’t think he had it in him.”

"Well, apparently he does." Steve leaned back against the wall and began to stand. "Look, you going to do this, or not? 'Cause I'd like to hurry it along before I bleed out."

Billy ignored him. The kid was in bad shape. "Tommy did that all on his own?" he asked, suspicious.

Steve shook his head. "Nah, he had help. Half the basketball team, I think." He chuckled. "I lost count in the middle though, so I can't give you a play by play. Sorry to disappoint you.”

Billy whistled. Those jocks weren't really more than a light workout to him. But he was built better than Steve, who was too skinny. Harrington could probably take on one or two, but half the team and he wouldn't have had a chance.

"Why?" He couldn't help but ask.

"I think he was defending you."

"What?"

"He was pissed at me 'cause I made you mad. I guess his girlfriend has the locker next to mine, and your little hissy fit earlier today broke her mirror. Well, she's superstitious, and now she's so worried about the bad luck that she won't sleep with Tommy until it runs out. Although I doubt she realizes it's seven years," he added with a small chuckle, his ribs screaming at him for it.

Billy scowled. Curiosity was now officially dead. Did that punk just say he had a hissy fit?

"Get up!" he commanded, flexing his muscles.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm working on it," Steve muttered, releasing his death grip on the wall behind him. And promptly falling forward.

He would have fallen to the ground if Billy hadn't caught him. "Jesus. How hurt are you?"

"Head wound. Few broken ribs. I think that's it," the other boy replied.

"Fuck!" Billy kicked a rock.

"What?"

"We can't do this now."

"Why not?"

"You can't even stand up."

"So?"

Billy let out a frustrated sigh. "So, I'm not going to kick your ass when you can't even pretend to defend yourself. But that doesn't mean this is over. As soon as you heal, I'm going to put you right back in the hospital, you got that?”

"Yeah, sure, thrilled to hear it."

Did this idiots sarcasm have an end? Billy propped him back against the wall and started to walk away. Then he remembered the other thing he needed to settle with him.

"Oh, one more thing."

Steve cocked an eyebrow at him.

"You're going to tutor me in World History. I'll meet you at your house at ten tomorrow morning."

"How do you know where I live?"

"I have my ways." Actually, Billy didn't know yet, but he figured he could find out by the next morning. "Be there, or-"

"You'll find me. Yeah, I know."

Billy gave a curt nod and walked away. He spared a thought for how Harrington was going to get home when he could barely stand, but he ignored it. He already gave him a reprieve, he was damned if he would carry him home.

On his way to his car, he passed by that snob Steve hung out with. What was her name? Nina? Natalie? "Hey, you," he called. "Your friend's out behind the gym. He might need a hand."

Conscience clear, he got in his car, ignoring the glare from his step-sister as he did so.

* * *

 

Steve waited until the bully disappeared from view, then slid back down the wall. Damn, he hurt, but all he could think about was Billy catching him. Totally innocent thoughts. Honestly, he was just surprised the dick hadn't let him fall, that was all.

“Steve!" Nancy cried as she came around the corner and almost barreled into him. "What happened? Are you okay? Can you walk?"

"Got beat up, kind of, and not really," he replied, grinning at her.

She frowned at him. "You have the oddest sense of humor. Don't move." She ran off again.

Steve shrugged, then winced at the sudden, stabbing pain in his ribs. Moving wasn't at the top of his list of things to do today.

Nancy came back with some kid he recognized from two of his classes. Jonathan Byers, he thought his name was. Together they eased him into a standing position. But then they tried to help him walk. Steve couldn't bite back a moan every time he felt a pull on his chest. Which was about every five seconds.

"You drove here, right? I’ve seen you in the parking lot a few times. If you want, I can give you a ride home. Your car will be fine here in the parking lot if we let the principle know,” Jonathan said.

"Thanks, man, but I think I’ll be okay.”

"You can barely walk," Nancy argued. "I'm going to go let the principle know about the car. Don't let him fall back down," she ordered Jonathan. "It'll be hell to get him back up again."

When she was gone, Steve joked, "Since we're all up close and personal," he began, nodding towards the other boy’s grip around his waist, “I’m Steve Harrington. You probably already know that, though.”

Jonathan chuckled softly. "Yeah, I know. I’m Jonathan Byers, but you probably already know that. So, uh...what happened?”

“The basketball team.”

"The basketball team did this?" Jonathan asked, sounding shocked.

"Well, at least eight or so. I kinda lost count."

"Wow. What did you do?"

"I made Billy Hargrove mad. Long story.” And not one he felt like telling.

"Oh." Silence.

"So, how do you know Nancy?" Steve asked, trying to revive the conversation. He’s never actually seen Jonathan and Nancy together.

"Her little brother is best friend’s with my little brother,” Jonathan explained.

"Ah. Cool.”

“Yeah.”

Another awkward silence.

Luckily for them, Nancy came back and said they were in the clear, so Jonathan handed Steve over to her and went to bring his car around. After, both he and Nancy helped Steve in, laying him down in the backseat.

"Thanks for the help, Nance,” Steve said, wincing as he shifted to get comfortable. "I'll call you.”

"Not a chance," Nancy said with a shake of her head. "I’m coming with you to the hospital.”

“You don’t have to—“

“I know I don’t. I want to.”

So that was that.

Steve didn’t protest anymore and instead closed his eyes and let his consciousness fade as they took him to the hospital.

* * *

Steve groaned as he rolled over and looked at the clock. 9:30. Shit, he overslept. Billy would be there in half an hour. He got out of bed awkwardly, careful to keep from brushing his bruised ribs up against anything. They were wrapped and bandaged, but there wasn't anything else the doctor could do. They had to heal on their own, and it was going to take about 6 weeks.

Just as he jumped out of the shower, he heard his mom calling.

"Steven! Your friend is here!"

He threw on some clothes and bounded down the stairs, not wanting to leave that monster alone with his mother for even a minute. But he kept forgetting about his ribs. Halfway down, he had to stop and lean against the railing. Damn. He regrouped and continued down the stairs slowly, glad Billy hadn't been around to see him looking so weak.

"Morning, sweetie," his mom said, greeting him at the kitchen door. He kissed her on the cheek.

"Morning, Mom." He saw Billy sitting at his kitchen table, eating waffles and smirking at him. "You made waffles?"

"Sure did! Sit down and I'll make you a plate." She gave him a questioning glance and looked pointedly at Billy.

Steve just shrugged at her and mouthed "I'll explain later." She raised her eyebrows, but didn't say anything.

He sat down at the table. "Good morning," he said to his tormentor.

Billy continued to smirk at him, staring him down. Steve felt his heart beat faster and looked away uncomfortably.

"I'll just leave you two alone," his mom said, placing a plate of waffles in front of him and slipping out.

"No wisecracks this morning."

Steve looked back at Billy. "Huh?"

"Nothing. I've just been sitting here five minutes already, and you haven't said anything that makes me want to beat the shit out of you yet."

"I guess my charm must be growing on you, then," Steve said with a sarcastic wink.

"And there you go.” Billy slammed one hand down on the table with a laugh. He startled Steve so much that the other boy dropped his fork.

"Shit," Steve muttered, bending over to get it. Pain like a million needles stabbed into his ribs and he sat back up, gasping. When he could breathe without pain, he started to try again, this time bending from the side instead.

"Stop. What the fuck is wrong with you?" Billy burst out. "You’re a moron. If it hurts that bad, don't fuckin' do it again. Damn it."

Steve stopped, surprised. Why would Billy care if he was hurting or not? It didn't make any sense.

He watched him kneel down and fumble under the table for the missing fork. When he finally popped out, fork in hand, his face was inches away from Steve’s.

Steve stared into his tormentor's eyes, and couldn't look away. He felt the other guy's breath, softly, on his face, but he didn't move away. His gaze dropped down to Billy’s lips as they came closer and closer to his own.

* * *

 Billy knelt on the kitchen floor in front of Steve. He only meant to offer him the fork, but then he looked up, and his face was only inches away. And then he saw Steve’s lips, and it was like he wasn’t in control of his own body as he started to lean forward…

“Uh, Billy?” Steve‘s voice was shaky and it snapped Billy out of it.

He wrenched himself away with a feeling of disgust. What the fuck was he doing?

"Here," he said harshly, thrusting the fork at Steve. He went back to his seat before things got more out of hand.

"Thanks," the other boy said, looking at it. It was covered in dust. "I'll just, uh, get another one, I think."

"We should probably get to work," Billy muttered as Steve grabbed a new fork and went back to eating his waffles.

"Okay. Uh, what did you need help with?"

"World History."

"Yeah, that's right. Okay. Um, should we start at the beginning? Did you bring your notes?"

"Yeah," Billy replied, getting them out. He didn't think he was the only one shaken by their little "moment". He'd never seen Steve look so awkward, even after his beating.

"Alright, so . . ."

* * *

Two hours later, Billy felt like he was starting to get this stuff. "Next Saturday," he reminded Steve as he was showed to the door.

"Sure," Steve said agreeably. Too agreeably. They weren't friends.

"Hurry up and heal," Billy called back with a smirk. "I can only wait so long to pound your ass."

Then he realized what he had just said, and how it could be taken.

"Fuck!" he cursed softly as he got into his car and drove away.

* * *

“So?" Nancy sauntered up to Steve’s locker Monday morning.

"Huh?"

"What happened with you-know-who on Saturday?” she asked, folding her arms and leaning back against the ocker next to his.

Steve had a mini panic attack. "Wh-what do you mean?" he burst out. Had Billy told someone? He thought maybe he had imagined it. That moment . . . when Billy almost . . . but he wasn't even going to think it. That was crazy. "I have no idea what you're talking about.”

Nancy rolled her eyes. "Your little tutoring session, dummy. What, did you forget already? Did they give you short-term memory loss when they beat the crap out of you?"

"Oh. That." He had forgotten he told her about that. The few hours after his beating were still a bit blurry.

"Of course that," she said. "Wait. What did you think I meant?”

Just then, Jonathan walked by. "Hey man," he said, nodding to Steve.

Steve nodded back. Jonathan looked at Nancy and suddenly seemed shyer. "Hey Nancy," he said.

"Hi," she said, looking down at the ground with a shy small.

There was an awkward silence between the three of them, but the looks that Nancy and Jonathan snuck one another when they thought the other wasn’t looking didn’t go by unnoticed.

Steve smirked.

“Well, I should, uh...I have some photos I need to develop, so…”

“Right,” Steve said. “Yeah, uh, see you around, man.”

Jonathan nodded and quickly left. Steve immediately turned back to Nancy.

"Don't yell at me," he told her. "What's going on with you?”

"What do you mean?" she replied, refusing to meet his eyes.

"I think you know exactly what I mean. You have a thing for Jonathan, don't you?”

"Of course not!" she burst out. "Why would I have a thing for him? That's ridiculous!”

"Why?" he asked, curious. "What's wrong with him? Aside from him being a loner, I mean.”

She gaped at him this time. "Nothing's wrong with him.”

"Then why is it ridiculous that you would have a thing for him?" he was really confused now.

"Because he's...I don’t know. It’s just…”

Steve made a “continue. . ." gesture with his arms, then winced when it pulled at his bandaged ribs.

Nancy wasn't looking at him. “There’s another guy I want, too. And I know I can’t have both.”

"What do you mean?"

She crossed her arms and slid down to sit on the floor. People walking by looked at her like she was insane, but she didn't seem to notice. "Don't play around, Steve. You know exactly what I mean. Just admit it."

He took a deep breath, staring down at her. Suddenly it clicked. And he groaned silently because it was going to be hell standing back up.

Sighing softly, he eased down so he was sitting next to her, and now people were staring at both of them like they were nuts.

"You're talking about me?" he confirmed quietly.

She nodded, looking miserable. "I know you’d never be interested in me so I’m probably just wasting my time.”

"That's not true," he replied.

"Really?" she gave him a look of disbelief. "You're telling me you would have looked twice at me if I hadn't saved you that first day?"

"Huh?"

"Come on. You're going out of your way to play stupid today. You're one of the best looking guys in this school, and I know you know it. You would be interested in a girl like me? And don't give me that 'we're friends, it'd be weird' bullshit. I’m nothing special. I dress like a grandma, I’m boring, I’m not that pretty…”

Not that pretty? Was she insane? Nancy was one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever seen.

"Sure I would, Nance," he said, playing with the hair on her shoulder. "I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't saved me that first day, but—No, hold on, I'm not finished yet," he broke off as she started to interrupt. "But, I have to be honest with you, and the fact is I've always been kind of a jerk when it comes to girls. I probably wouldn't have looked twice at you, because I only dated bimbos who dressed slutty and had nonexistent personalities. And I dropped them after a week because I was bored. I might not have looked at you then, but I am now. And, if we weren't friends, and it wouldn't be weird, I would definitely be into you. You're smart and fun to hang out with, and you're the most capable person I know. You've saved my life twice. And hell,nothing about you could ever be boring. You're so beautiful, Nancy, and you don’t even realize it. Truthfully, I’d do you.”

"Screw you," she said, laughing and jumping up.

"Just name the time and place, baby," he quipped, glad she was on her feet again, both literally and figuratively.

“You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

"I know,” he said, mentally rubbing his hands together and cackling maniacally, "but let’s not forget the most important thing here. You think I'm one of the best looking guys in this school?”

"Screw you, Steve!"

"I thought we just settled that?" he asked, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"Arggh!" she groaned with a smile, stalking off.

"Hey, wait!" he called after her. "I need your help getting up! I'm stuck!"

"Can't even keep your mouth shut long enough to keep from pissing off your friends, can you?" growled a familiar voice.

Steve felt his face go blank. He was still trying to understand what Billy had meant by that parting comment on Saturday, and he didn't want to talk to him now, not before he had figured it out and decided how to act.

"Morning, Billy," he said, throwing him an overly bright smile. "Want to give me a hand?" he asked hopefully.

"Fuck, no," Billy scoffed. "Just checking to see when you're going to be ready to get your ass kicked."

"Anywhere, anytime," Steve replied with a grin.

"We'll see," Billy said, walking away.

Steve rolled his eyes as he struggled to stand up on his own. God, he wished he was popular again.

 


	3. Chapter 3

"You never told me what happened last Saturday," Nancy prodded as they stood in the lunch line later that week.

Steve shrugged. "Billy came over, I tutored him, he left. Not much to tell." _Except for that weird moment_ , he thought. He was so confused about that, he didn't know what to do. He was at least eighty percent sure that Billy had been about to kiss him. But then Billy hadn't seemed the least bit awkward about it all week, so Steve thought maybe it was just all in his imagination.

"That's it?" Nancy asked, sounding disappointed.

"Yeah." For the first time, Steve wished he were a little more like a girl. They told each other everything about things like this. He could really use some help dissecting what had happened. But, he was a guy, so he kept quiet and tried not to think about it.

"I wonder why he has you tutoring him anyway. I mean, he's not exactly the first person I would expect to be worried about his grades."

Steve shrugged again. It was a good question. Maybe he would ask.

"Well, was it weird having him in your house?" she asked as they went to sit down, food in hands.

"What do you think? I've never felt as weird in my life as when I was sitting at my kitchen table with the guy who's made my life miserable for the last month, eating my mom's waffles."

"Was he an ass to your mom?" 

"No, actually I was surprised. I didn't really see him say anything to her, but she didn't seem upset. Mostly just confused. I think she's used to my friends being a little less...like Billy. You know, with the mullet and clothes he wears,” he said. Billy had been pretty decent to him, too, during. Once they started working, he acted like any other guy. Until he left . . . .

"Are you talking about Billy?”

Steve spun around to see Jonathan behind him with a tray.

"Oh, hey, what's up?" he greeted him.

"Uh, mind if I join you guys?"

Steve looked at Nancy, who was staring at her food. "Nancy?" he prodded, trying not to grin.

"What, huh? Oh, hi Jonathan," she said, blushing. Steve was happy to see this was becoming a daily occurrence. "Yeah, of course you can sit with us."

"Cool," Jonathan replied brightly, taking the seat next to Nancy. "So, what about Billy?”

“I was just telling Nancy that I don’t think my mom expected someone like him to show up at my house looking for me.”

"You mean because he’s an asshole?”

”That and his appearance.”

“I don’t know,” Nancy shrugged. “Maybe Billy isn’t so bad once you really get to know him.”

"I don't know if I'd go that far," Steve said. He looked across the cafeteria at Billy. The guy was sitting on one of the tables with his posse.

Billy looked up and their eyes met. Steve felt the connection like physical contact. He expected Billy to come over and say something, but Hargrove just stared back at him with hard eyes for a moment before looking away.

For some odd reason, Steve was disappointed.

* * *

"Why do you want help with World History anyway?" He asked Billy during the next Saturday morning tutoring session. They had been working for about an hour now, and so far there hadn't been a repeat of the weirdness.

"Why do you need to know?" Billy raised an eyebrow at him over the top of his book.

"Because it will help me figure out what to teach you," Steve made up on the spot, realizing it was actually true. "It make things easier.”

"Oh." Billy actually sounded surprised. "I want to pass the state test."

"Why do you care?" Steve asked. "I don't mean to be a dick, but you wouldn't be first on my list of people to be worried about that."

Billy growled and slammed the book down, standing up. "First of all, of course you meant to be a dick. You always mean to be a dick! What do you think gets me so god-damn pissed off at you all the time? And second of all," he continued, advancing, "You don't know a fucking thing about me, pretty-boy."

Steve looked up. Billy was standing directly above him, and he swore his face was a mile away. Feeling vulnerable, he stood up, too. Billy didn't budge, so they were so close their chests were touching.

"Stop flirting with me, Hargrove," he ground out. He was tired of the guy flying off the handle for no reason all of the time.

"Fuck you," the other boy said, getting in his face.

"I didn't know you swung that way," Steve shot back.

Billy was so close Steve thought their eyelashes might touch when they blinked. He couldn't blink though. He couldn't do anything more than stare, transfixed, at the person in front of him. Billy was breathing heavily but quietly from their argument, his eyes flashing passionately. Steve should move, run, get out of there, do something, but all he could do was think about how right this felt. Maybe he was the one who swung that way. That thought shook him, and he sat back down, breaking the moment.

"Like I said, you don't know anything about me," Billy growled, turning away. "But I'm not a fag, if that's what you're asking."

 _Neither am I_ , Steve thought. He just needed to start going after some of the girls at school, that was all. He was used to them chasing him, and he was just going a little insane from all the lack of attention. That was all it was.

"Look, for what it's worth, I'm sorry," Steve replied when he recovered. Somebody had to be the better man. "You're right, I don't know anything about you. But for the record, I didn't mean to be an asshole. I just don't always think before I say something, ok?”

Billy snorted. "For once, we agree."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he muttered. "Look, if you want to do well on the state test, I can help you get there. But we're going to have to move faster, because it's only four weeks away. Maybe we should start meeting after school, too?" Why was he going out of his way to help this guy?

But Billy just shook his head. "I got shit to do. But next week, we'll start earlier."

Steve groaned silently. He was already getting up earlier than he wanted to on a Saturday. But, as usual, Billy hadn't asked, he had just told, and Steve wasn't ready to get into another argument with him. He wasn't ready to test his luck again, especially when every argument now turned into. . . well, that.

He just nodded. "Okay. But I think we're done for today."

Billy grabbed his leather jacket and left, not needing to be told twice.

Steve sighed. He didn't know if he could take four more weeks of this.


	4. Chapter 4

Billy slammed the door to Steve’s house and leaned back against it. Wow. He hadn't imagined it. He didn't know what Steve was doing to him, but it had to be stopped.

The kid was going down.

He stood in the middle of the hallway during passing period, glowering at everyone who walked by. A little freshman girl wasn't watching where she was going and almost walked right into him. He hissed at her, and she started to cry. _Fuck_. He only meant to make her stay out of his way.

This was all thanks to Steve fucking Harrington. It always came back to him. Billy stared at the preppy kid leaning by his locker, laughing with that girl he hung out with and the weird, creepy kid who’s name Billy didn’t care enough to remember. He thought he was so cool with his khaki pants and his dorky, preppy sweater nd his eager laugh and his stupid, big dark hair. Nothing had been the same since Steve came to town. And he wasn’t sure he liked it.

Steve caught him staring and broke out in a hesitant smile. Cursing loudly, Billy spun around and stomped off the other way.

Eight o'clock Saturday morning, Billy stood in front of Steve’s house. He started to ring the bell when the door swung open and Steve’s mom came rushing out, pulling on a jacket.

"Damn cold weather," she muttered. "Oh! Hi, sweetie. I'm in a rush, it's my one weekend to work this month and I'm late! Sorry, but you guys are going to have to fend for yourselves for breakfast today. You're not usually here this early. I don't know if Steve is even up yet. You might have to wake him. Up the stairs and second door on the left. Have fun!"

She jumped in her car and drove off, tires squealing.

 _Jesus Christ._ Billy tried to process what she just said. He let himself in and walked back to the kitchen, dropping his bag. He waited a few minutes, but he didn't hear anything.

“Harrington?" he called out. No answer. Damn. He wasn't a friggin alarm clock.

He took the stairs two at a time. "Harrington!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "Wake the fuck up!"

Second door on the right. He heard music blasting from preppy boy's room. He pounded on the door, but there was no answer. _At least he's up,_ he thought. _I should just go back down and wait. But he doesn't know I'm here._

He knocked one more time, then tried the handle. It turned. He threw the door open.

And had a minute to realize it wasn't Steve’s bedroom.

"What the hell, man?" Steve yelled, grabbing a towel and slinging it around his waist. Steam rose up, surrounding him in a hazy glow.

"Uh, sorry," Billy said in a low voice.

A single drop of water fell from a lock of Steve’s hair. He watched it slide down the other guy's chest until it was absorbed by the fibers of the towel. Billy almost shivered.

Another fat drop plopped onto Steve’s shoulder and slowly made its way between the planes and ridges of his chest. Billy had the sudden urge to lick it off. He wondered what his skin would taste like. When that drop, too, soaked into the towel, Billy looked up.

Then he leaned in and pressed his lips against Steve’s.

Heat. And wet. And softness. He backed up for a second, staring into those wide eyes. Releasing a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, he wrapped his arms around Steve’s shoulders and captured his lips once again.

He felt a hand grab onto his shirt and he deepened the kiss, gently touching tongue to lips, seeking entrance. Steve opened, and he slid in, tasting. Toothpaste and mouthwash. And Steve. Groaning, he pulled in closer.

He felt steadily increasing pressure against his chest. He broke off the kiss, letting Steve push him away. He stumbled backward, trying to catch his breath. Across from him, Steve was doing the same.

"What just . . .?" Steve panted, eyes vulnerable.

Billy took one step back, then another one. He felt the doorjamb behind him and he turned around and bolted down the stairs and out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

Steve collapsed on the bathroom floor, touching his lips. And he stayed there.

* * *

 

He may have sat there for minutes. Maybe hours. He couldn’t even tell how much time had passed with his head spinning.

"Steve! Steve, where are you?"

Through the fog, his brain dimly registered the voice.

"The door was open, so I just came in. I wanted to talk to you about Jonathan. I—Steve!" Nancy ran into the room, stopping short when she saw him. "What's wrong? What are you doing on the floor half-naked?"

Steve stared at her. His salvation. "Come here," he commanded softly.

She came, crouching down in front of him. "Steve, what-?"

"Shhh," he whispered, pulling her forward onto his chest.

Tipping up her chin, he lowered his head and brushed her lips with his. Once, twice. He prodded at her lips until they opened, then he dove in, sweeping his tongue across the roof of her mouth. Finally, he pulled away.

She sat in the cradle of his arms, staring at him. "What was that for?" she asked quietly, blushing furiously.

"I just had to see."

"And?" She sounded hopeful and it killed him.

He shook his head miserably.

Her eyes widened in hurt and she jumped up and stared down at him. "You said you were a jerk! I should have believed you," she whispered, tears pooling in her eyes. Then she turned and ran away. Steve heard the door slam for the second time that day.

It was too late when he thought about what he had just done. "I wasn't testing you, Nance!" he called, knowing she couldn't hear him. "I was testing _me."_

**Author's Note:**

> Next chapter will be posted tomorrow most likely. Thanks for reading!


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